


Torment

by Saharuriot18



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saharuriot18/pseuds/Saharuriot18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl and Jazz are caught in a never ending torment and at least one mech seems to be having a little sadistic fun with the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

'Prowl'

'Prowl' the voice growled softly to him

'Prowl, wake up. I want you to see this.' Prowl stirred, what did he want now. Everything was gone. Taken. What could he possibly want now.

'Come on. I know you are still here somewhere in this body. I have something you might want to see here.' Teasing now. Taunting.

Prowl found it within himself to give an answer 'What Barricade? Have you found another autobot to torture in front of my optics? Or are you just getting lonely?' he sneered.

'No. Not quite. But you should pay some attention.' Barricade sounded like he was chastising a sparkling, 'A certain little saboteur seems to have made his way to this puny mudball.'

Whatever venom Prowl had been thinking about beforehand froze. 'Jazz.' he whispered.

Amazing how one little word could hold so much importance and meaning. Especially to a seemingly emotionless tactician. Jazz. The Autobot TIC and former bane of Prowl's existence. He was open, outgoing, spontaneous, fun loving, in short a mech who was the complete opposite of Prowl. And yet, after living around Jazz for so long, Prowl had been able to glance at the mech underneath. The dark, secretive mech who rarely showed his true colors to the world around him. And despite the two of them being the most unlikely pair ever they had fallen in love with each other. Were even considering taking the ultimate step, bonding, before Prowl had been captured.

But now, that was impossible. After being captured the Decepticons had been quite disappointed to learn that the SIC was much more resilient than previously thought. So instead of torturing him physically, they decided to destroy him mentally.

They had reprogrammed him. Stripped away everything but his spark and then rebuilt another mech around him. But, by some mercy, or perhaps act of cruelty, he was still there. The Barricade persona had been fashioned by the Decepticons and implanted in the new body. But way back, in the furthest reaches of his helm, Prowl had survived.

So now he was stuck. A prisoner in his own body. Helpless but to watch as Barricade killed his friends, which were already a precious few to begin with.

'So Prowler. How much fun do you think we can have with this little lover of yours?'


	2. Chapter 2

“But Prime!”

“No Jazz”

“But-“Jazz had feared this would happen. That the Autobots would think him unfit to carry out his duties because he had cracked after Prowl had died. 

‘No! Ah don’ know if he’s dead yet. Ah’ll believe he’s dead when Ah see his sparkless body’ Jazz hissed to himself.

“You will stay here, on the Ark, in the event of a security breach” 

“Prime, there‘re plenty o’ other ‘bots who can do tha’ job. Monitor duty ain’t exa’tly a high maintenance task. Ah’m the TIC and head o’ spec ops. Ah should be wit’ ya” 

He just couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t even a very dangerous mission they were talking about! Just going on a patrol to survey a nearby town and check it for signs of Decepticons. So what was the big deal?!

“Jazz. I insist that you stay here and that is final. You are still healing mentally and physically and Ratchet hasn’t cleared you for full duty yet.”

Jazz growled and stalked out of Prime’s office. First he had taken him away from his search for Prowl and now that he was finally back in the game, Optimus wouldn’t let him do his job! The only reason Prime had even been able to drag Jazz back was because Jazz had been hoping to bury himself in his work. It would keep his mind off Prowl and everything else in his charred world. But now Prime wouldn’t even let him do that!

Jazz just shook his head and reported in to the surveillance room. He would just have to prove to Prime that he wasn’t a fragile thing that had to be sheltered.

ooooo00000ooooo

“AAAAAAAAARGGHHHH!!!!!”

The bloodcurdling cry sounded out, causing Jazz to jump up and out of his berth like he had been electrocuted. Even though he was still shaking the sleep from his optics Jazz could recognized that voice anywhere. 

“Prowl?! PROWL!!” 

The saboteur whipped around the room trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound. But there was no one there. He was alone. Still utterly alone.

“JAAAAAZZZZ!!!!!”

He snapped his head up again. There was still no one there. 

“JAAAAZZZZZ!!!!”

The wail grated against his audios and Jazz cringed in pain. The voice was Prowl’s. It was unmistakable. But there was no origin to it. The Voice vibrated in his head unendingly.

Jazz clutched his helm in pain as Prowl- ‘No. Not Prowl! It’s not Prowl!’

But it was Prowl. And he was in pain.

“No! It’s NOT you!! IT CAN’T BE YOU!!”

He shrieked along to the morbid melody in his head.

With his back pressed against the corner of his room, Jazz covered his audios with his servos and slowly slid down the wall until his knees were to his chest. The Voice hurt! It hurt!! And he could feel his sanity screaming with it.

“Jazz!” 

There was a pounding at the door, but the Voice made it impossible to hear anything else. 

“Jazz what’s going on?!”

Another pounding. More screaming.

“Jazz I’m opening the door!”

The door swished open, permitting Ratchet and Ironhide entrance. 

Ratchet ran up to the still incoherently screaming Jazz. His servos reached forward to pry Jazz’s away from his audios but was kicked aside by the hysterical saboteur. 

Pulling back, Ratchet reached into his subspace to take out a sedative. 

“Ironhide, stop Jazz if he tries to make a run for it.”

The mech nodded and positioned himself to stop a runaway TIC. Ratchet walked forward again, this time armed with a sedative that was carefully hidden in his hand.

Jazz glanced up at the approaching mech. There was a cautiousness about him as he came this time. Optics widening at a glimpse of metal in the medic’s hand, Jazz coiled up and sprang forward. Shoving aside Ratchet, he sprinted towards the door only to be taken into a bear hug from behind. He twisted savagely trying to break out but Ironhide’s grip was unbreakable.

“Prowl!!! STOP!!! Stop it! Please stop!!! Please!-“

Jazz’s voice faded out as Ratchet injected him with a strong sedative. The crying mech slumped in Ironhide’s grip as he lost the strength to stand up.

“Ironhide, please take Jazz to the medbay.” Ratchet ordered.

Jazz looked like a broken marionette that had had all of its strings cut in Ironhide’s arms. The mechs started a solemn march to the medbay when they were stopped in their tracks by the doorway at the sight of a crying figure.

“Jazz. Why?” Bluestreak whispered as his voice trembled in time to his body. “Why did he? Prowl?” The last word cracked in the sniper’s mouth.

“I’m sorry Bluestreak.” Ratchet put his hand on the mech’s shoulder before walking out of the room with Ironhide in tow. 

This time whispering to himself, “But I just don’t know.”

oooooOOOOOooooo

‘Don’t tell me that wasn’t entertaining Prowl.’

‘What you did.’ Prowl broke off to snarl. ‘I promise that I will tear you apart piece by piece until you scream for mercy. I promise.’

‘Well, someone’s in a spunky mood.’ Barricade smiled to himself. It really was just wonderful when prey fights back. ‘It really is so fun to play with that saboteur of yours. Really just makes you want to rip your claws into him. I get now why you love him so much. Tell me. Is he just as erotic in berth?’

The fury in Prowl reached its peak and he lashed out as hard as he could. Harder than he ever had before. But it was to no end. The invisible chains still held him back. Barricade was still in control. And he was still laughing.


	3. Chapter 3

Jazz stirred. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and his audios were ringing slightly. Groaning slightly from the effort, Jazz shifted so that he was sitting up. Medbay. But in one of the private rooms. Hm. Wonder what happened. 

It hit him like someone stabbed his spark. The screaming, the Voice! 

Immediately the TIC reached up to his audios. A touch to them made him wince in pain. Jazz checked his internal settings and almost did a double take. He NEVER left them that high. They were at their highest possible and something like twenty times the normal hearing for a mech.

Quickly he dialed them down to a much lower setting, but it would still take a few minutes before they adjusted to the new setting. Until then hopefully no one would disturb him.

BAM!!!!

Jazz jumped at the loud noise and covered his audios with his servos again. For a moment all he could think of was the flash of intense pain that accompanied the noise. Looking to the left, only a few inches from his helm, a wrench was sticking out of the metal wall. The amount of force needed to imbed the wrench in the metal wall must have been phenomenal! The TIC looked back to the door where a fuming medic was standing.

“Scrap.”

Ratchet raised his arm, pointing another wrench at him. 

“Yes. Scrap seems to be a good word here.” 

“Uh, Ratchet, um……” Jazz hesitated. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t end up with him reformatted into a microwave, or worse, a toaster. It had happened to Sideswipe and it didn’t look pretty.

Ratchet lowered his arm and narrowed his eyes before walking close to the medical berth. The medic practically towered over he saboteur. From Jazz’s point of view it wasn’t hard to see how Ratchet had become one of the most feared and respected Autobots in history.

“Would you like to explain to me what exactly happened?” There was enough ice in Ratchet’s voice to have frozen Cybertron.

“Ah…Ah don’t know. There was someone in mah room and…it sounded like Prowler. There was so much screamin’. Felt like my helm was goin’ to explode.” Unconsciously he reached up to rub his audios again. They were still sore, but starting to adjust to a more comfortable level.

“There was no one there when I found you.”

“Then, Ah don’t know who-“Jazz trailed off as his attention was distracted from the medic. There was another mech standing behind Ratchet, a very familiar mech. One with door wings and the source of many of Jazz’s nightmares.

“Jazz? Jazz?!” 

The Praxian stepped forward into the lighting. Something was glinting in his hand. Taking another step forward the former SIC raised the energon dagger in his hand to strike down Ratchet. There was a small, satisfied, and very evil looking smile on the tactician’s face.

“Prowl?” For a moment Jazz stopped breathing. ‘It’s not possible. It’s not possible.’ But even as the mantra repeated over and over, it could not stand up to the reality of the moment. But what was Prowl doing? It looked like-

“NO!” Jazz launched himself at his mate. He took Prowl’s wrists in his servos as the force of the hit brought the two of them to the ground. Prowl yelped as he landed on his door wings and snarled up at Jazz. His optics were burning red, a stark contrast to the piercing blue they had once been. 

Jazz felt himself being torn from Prowl and forced back. A cherry red servo pushed him hard into a wall as Ratchet’s spitting mad face took up his view.

“Jazz! What do you think you are doing?!”

“Ah-“Jazz looked back to look at Prowl. But as he caught sight of the tactician, the familiar black and white paint faded into gray and red, revealing a trembling sniper who was most certainly not Prowl on the floor. 

“Bluestreak?! Ah, Ah didn’t.”

Bluestreak looked up at Jazz and held his gaze for a moment with watering optics before getting up and practically bolting from the medbay.

“Ah’m goin’ mad.”

oooooOOOOOooooo

Jazz couldn’t stay in the ark, there were too many mechs, too many questions, and he just needed some space. Ratchet had been spending the last four hours checking Jazz over from head to toe for any sign of malfunction or virus. The virus scans had needed to be analyzed so Ratchet finally let him go for a bit. The medic would comm him later to tell him what the results are. But for now, Jazz just wanted to be alone. So he had convinced Blaster to take over his shift and had driven as fast and far away as his wheels could take him. Now he was just wondering around in some uninhabited area or another. It didn’t matter, he didn’t care.

“So stupid! So, so stupid!” He muttered, “Ah can’t believe Ah did that. Ah’m sorry Bluestreak, Ah didn’ mean ta…ta.” Jazz groaned and hung his head. This was all so fragged up. The war had truly taken away the last of his sanity now. 

There was a time earlier in the war when he felt like this. Like everything that kept him grounded to reality was gone. He had started falling apart and only those few who were close enough to him had known enough to be worried. And then a miracle had happened. Prowl had come into his life. The mech was appointed SIC and Jazz hadn’t even noticed until a few solar cycles later when Prowl had walked into his office and inquired rather forcefully why all Jazz’s paperwork was still address to the deactivated former SIC. 

Jazz still wasn’t sure what had made him look closer at Prowl that day, but the moment he did his life had gained back its color again. The tactician was the most perfect mech he had ever seen. Gorgeous without knowing it, calm and capable in times of terror, and possessing of the most caring spark Jazz had ever come to know.

But then he had been taken and who knows what was done to Prowl. Jazz smashed his hand into a nearby tree. Every reason he had for living was dying. And he couldn’t stop it. On top of it all he had probably caused even more damage to Bluestreak. Prowl had been a creator figure to the sniper and the loss of him had hit Bluestreak terribly hard. And now Jazz was losing his mind around the mech. Ripping open wounds that still had not had nearly the time to heal yet. 

Jazz continued his walk, berating and cursing and mourning in an endless cycle. So wrapped up in his own thoughts that he did not notice the Decepticon following him until it was too late.

oooooOOOOOooooo

Ratchet leaned in closer to the monitor. The results on Jazz’s virus scan would be complete any clik now. 

The saboteur troubled Ratchet. Prowl’s death had hit him hard, harder than anyone, even Bluestreak. At first he had been obsessed on finding Prowl, but then Prime had ordered him back to duty and things had been settling down a little. Jazz was still depressed, but then again Ratchet probably would have been worried about him if Jazz hadn’t seemed depressed. And then this had happened. All of a sudden Jazz was turning into what the humans would call a madman. If things didn’t improve, and fast, then they would have a real problem on their servos. There would be no way Jazz could continue being TIC and head of spec ops. He probably wouldn’t even be deemed fit to even go one patrol or do monitor duty. Then what would the Autobots do with him? They currently didn’t possess the means to ship him off planet and they did not have the energon to spare on a mech who couldn’t pull his own weight. Jazz would probably either have to be sent into stasis until something could be done about him or killed. And Ratchet was hard pressed not to have either occur to one of the greatest Autobots in history. 

The monitor pinged Ratchet as the test drew up its conclusions onto the screen. Ratchet read carefully, not wanting to miss a single detail. His optics widened at the results. 

Jazz was infected. There was a virus in his systems, a deadly one. One that would need immediate medical attention. But there was also something else. Something different about the virus and the meticulous coding that it was formed out of. Every work of programing and coding for any reason contained a signature. Little preferences in wording and structure that hinted to the creator of the masterpiece. Ratchet had only ever seen one other virus with this particular signature to it. But it couldn’t be.

Prowl was alive?!


	4. Chapter 4

For a moment Ratchet just stared, dumbfounded by the results before him. Prowl had written a virus that was currently killing Jazz and driving him insane. 

The medic sat back in his chair. Prowl was alive. There was no mech living, not even Jazz or Soundwave himself who could perfectly replicate the tactician’s style of programing. But that meant Prowl had infected his own mate. He was basically attempting to murder him! There was so much that didn’t make sense with this situation and Ratchet had a feeling that Jazz was the key to a lot of it, even if he knew it or not.

:Jazz:

….

:Jazz, come in :

….

:Jazz you fragger, come in!:

….

Static. Jazz knew that Ratchet would be comming him. If he wasn’t picking up… Ratchet didn’t even want to count the ways something might have gone wrong. 

:Red Alert!:

:Ratchet, thank Primus! Decepticons have successfully infiltrated our base! Jazz has been an undercover agent all this time and he knows all of our plans and codes! We must change them all immediately!! I told you something like this would happen!:

Ratchet could practically hear the mech glitching. The medic growled, this was not the time.

:Red Alert! Jazz is not a Decepticon spy. I need you to tell me where he is:

:But!-: Red Alert stopped that train of thought. It wasn’t worth continuing the argument if it meant invoking Ratchet’s wrath. 

:Teletran-1 isn’t picking up Jazz’s spark signature anywhere in the immediate area:

:That piece of scrap: Ratchet grumbled :Keep an optic out for him and comm me immediately if he shows:

:Will do Ratchet:

So Jazz wasn’t on the Ark. The medic pressed down a surge of fury. Of course Jazz wouldn’t be on the Ark! That would make things much too easy. And Primus knows that nothing would ever be done the easy way when it came to the Autobots. Now they would have to send out a search party to find the missing saboteur and hopefully get to him before he dies of the virus in his systems. 

:Prime!:

:Yes Ratchet? Have you found out more about what is happening to Jazz?: The worry in the Prime’s voice was obvious. Jazz was a valuable member of their team and they would be hard pressed to replace him with another mech of equal skill. But more importantly he was a close friend. Who knows how many countless centuries he had been there to support Optimus and the cause, raising moral with his ever present smile and humor. But now…things were falling apart.

:I did and I need that son of glitch here now if he wants to live. Teletran-1 isn’t picking up Jazz’s spark signature anywhere in the immediate area and he isn’t picking up his comm:

:I will organize a search party immediately:

:Be sure you do. I don’t know how much longer he has:

oooooOOOOOooooo

‘What are we doing here?’

‘Now, now. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for you.’

‘That is not comforting.’

‘It’s not meant to be.’

Barricade made his way through one of the more run down, deserted areas of the Nemesis. There were plenty of these spaces to go around. The Nemesis was currently only holding a fraction of the capacity of mechs it could be holding so had been deemed a waste of resources to continue using some of the more discreet areas of the ship. This made for excellent opportunities for mechs like Barricade. Mechs who preferred privacy and had secret agendas. Yes, these suited his purposes beautifully. No one around to hear anything and even if someone was, well, there were plenty of spaces to stash a body. Barricade had scoped out the area well. 

Right now he was on his way to his favorite spot. The room was dim enough to make it hard for a normal mech to see, but not enough to cause trouble for his own enhanced optics. There were dried energon splatters here and there to add a touch of color to the place. A medical berth with restraints was present as well and as an added bonus, Barricade had even found some old medical equipment lying around. Some had been much too rusted to even think of using, too blunt to cut a mech and too brittle to stab with, but some supplies had simply been ripe for the taking. Perhaps at one time the room had been a private medbay or maybe Shockwave had done some of his experimenting here, but now it was Barricade’s den of agony and torture. 

He ducked under a fallen support beam and moved to avoid some sparking electrical wiring that was hanging out of the ceiling. Soon the last roadblock was navigated safely and Barricade palmed open the door to his room. 

Safely strapped onto the berth was the Autobot he had requested earlier. Having mechs in your debt certainly paid off from time to time.

There was no hint of light coming from Jazz’s visor signaling his unconsciousness. ‘Good’ Barricade thought. He preferred it if he was present when the saboteur woke up.

‘Jazz! What have you done to him!?’ The horror and malice was strong in Prowl’s voice.

‘I haven’t done anything Prowler. I just thought that maybe you would like to have a closer view of your mate. What has it been? Ten, twenty thousand vorns since you’ve last stood in a room with him? Something like that.’

Barricade reached out to stroke the faceplates of the unconscious Autobot. Such a pretty mech, shame that he wouldn’t stay that way for very long.

‘Get your filthy servos off him!’

Barricade just smiled and continued his stroking, only stopping when a soft blue light began to filter through the flawless crystal visor.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hello Jazz, my name is Barricade. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

How dare he? How dare he speak to his Jazz like that!? HIS Jazz! Prowl touched briefly upon the feelings he had felt when he saw Jazz’s body ling still, so still on the berth. There was a moment of denial, but it was quickly resolved when Jazz’s body didn’t disappear after a few cliks, then an overpowering sense of yearning came. Barricade was right. It had been so long since he’d been in such a proximity to his lover. And now to finally be just yards away, it killed him not to be able to just run up and take Jazz in his arms and never let go. Then hate set it. Burning, raging, unfiltered and uncontrollable. It wasn’t enough what Barricade had put Prowl through. For some reason he still wanted to torture and break Prowl with everything he had and by Primus he was succeeding. 

‘Get away from him you glitched fragger.’

‘But Prowl, I thought it was good manners to introduce yourself when meeting someone new.’

The innocence and undertone of sarcasm in Barricade voice made Prowl want to purge. It was Barricade’s style to twist meanings and feelings until they became unrecognizable. He was a superb actor. If you gave him enough time he could probably convince a mech that energon rained down from the sky every other day in all the hues of the rainbow. It gave Barricade power over people, the last thing a psychopath like him should have. 

Prowl almost didn’t see the emotions that ran through Jazz’s face before his features turned to stone. But the miniscule moments of surprise, awareness, anger could not escape Prowl’s trained optic. Unfortunately that meant that it wasn’t beyond Barricade’s ability to see through the saboteur’s façade either. 

“Pleasure ta meet ya Barricade.” Jazz’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “What migh’ Ah have done ta deserve such a grand welcome as this one?”

“For now that is for me to know and you to find out.”

Barricade moved his servos to one of the ports in Jazz’s neck. One servo held the saboteur’s head down firmly while the other quickly sliced off the covering with a couple fast moves from the Decepticon’s claws. Jazz didn’t even twitch at the feeling of the cut. 

Barricade extended a wire from his wrist and roughly plugged himself into Jazz. He moved quickly and efficiently, breaking down firewalls with codes that only Jazz and Prowl had known. Information was torn from Jazz’s mind, no corner was left unsearched.

It was a strange sensation for Prowl. He too was able to move inside Jazz’s mind, but in a manner similar to that of a ghost. He could see everything, but never touch, never affect, never be seen by Jazz in return. 

After the information was stolen Barricade made short work of forcing a download into the Autobot’s body. Code swept through Jazz’s body, making him jerk and give a strangled cry as the new code ripped apart and devoured the virus which had formerly been implanted. 

It took almost a full minute for the remainder of the code to stop sweeping through his systems to make sure nothing was left of the virus and for Jazz to stop twitching.

He was still struggling to vent properly when he asked, “Wha’…wha’ did ya do ta meh?”

“I just prolonged your life. I had implanted a nasty virus a while back. Had a lot of fun with the results too, but couldn’t have you die on me in the middle of our fun. Shame it had to go though. Watching you react to seeing hallucinations of Prowl was well worth the tedious time it took to make it. Your screams reminded me so much like his.”

‘You sick masochist. I hope you haven’t forgotten my promise. One day you will be begging for mercy at my feet.’

‘Oh I haven’t forgotten dear Prowler. But let’s live in the present shall we?’

A savage look dominated Jazz’s face when he connected the dots of what had happened. Then the last thing Barricade said hit him. 

Prowl. 

Barricade had…

A wild roar tore its way out of Jazz’s vocalizer and he pulled on the restraints that held him down. Any restrain he had had been thrown out the window by this point.

“Wha’ did ya do ta Prowl?! Where is he?!”

Barricade smiled and looked in the distance as if he was remembering a cherished memory.

“That mech was really something else. I had the honor of getting to know him quite intimately actually. You know he didn’t scream until the very end? But when he finally did he cried out for you. Though I don’t think he was even conscious of his actions by that point. It is very hard to think straight when you are in that much pain, I’m sure you can relate.”

‘Stop this Barricade! You already have me, let Jazz go. He has nothing to do with this!’  
But the Praxian might as well have been trying to talk to a wall. There was no response. The only thing he got from Barricade was a faint trickle of pleasure/happiness. The monster was enjoying every second of this. 

“Liar! You liar!” Jazz spat out at Barricade. 

A storm passed over the Decepticon’s faceplates at the words. He violently leaned in close to Jazz so that his helm was inches from the saboteur’s.

“I am many things Jazz. But never a liar!” Barricade emphasized his words by backhanded Jazz with his claws extended. The force of the strike snapped Jazz’s head to the side and energon sprayed out of the new shallow scratches. 

“In spite of those hurtful words Jazz, I still have a present for you. Prowler didn’t exactly tell me to give it to you, but I’m sure he would have wanted you to have it.”

Barricade turned away from Jazz to search some of shelves that lines the room. Soon enough he turned back with a piece of dull metal dangling from his grip. 

Barricade lifted the object so Jazz could see the full morbid glory of it.

Prowl himself was stunned speechless at the sight of his old chevron. The formerly gleaming crimson metal was scuffed and tarnished. It had been ripped off early in his interrogation and he hadn’t seen it since. The sight of the chevron now felt a little disturbing and made Prowl wish he had the ability to throw the thing away.

Jazz was having slightly different reaction.

A ragged sob tore through the saboteur’s throat. His body quivered and his visor seemed to have held a lock on the chevron. Jazz stared at it. Stared at it like a recovering addict might a dangerous drug. Knowing that taking it, accepting it, would be harmful, possibly deadly, but having a burning desire to grab it and take all it had to give.

“Monster.” The word came shakenly out of Jazz’s vocalizer. 

“I’m glad you think so. It would be such a shame to have built up my reputation for nothing. Anyway, we’ve sidetracked for much too long. Let’s get on with some good stuff, yes?”

A long decorated energy dagger was unsubspaced. Barricade held it up and let Jazz watch the dim light glance off it. 

“I found this in Prowl’s subspace after he fell offline. Do you know what it is?”

Prowl took in the sight of the dagger. He remembered the morning he had bought it on the streets of Praxus. The owner of the store had been an old family friend and was ecstatic, much to Prowl’s dismay, at the dagger’s selling. It was a beautiful piece, Prowl himself had created and sent in the designs for it. The final product was more exquisite than he had ever expected and he simply could not have waited for the day he would have presented it to Jazz.

“No? Well I will tell you. It has been a long and ancient custom of Praxus. The custom derives itself from an old, sad tale. It’s quite pitiful actually, but I’ll let you judge. 

The story goes that once upon a time there was a mech born to the royal family of Praxus. So of course this means that he would have to have an arranged bondage for the good of Praxus. But one day while walking along the streets he met a beautiful young femme. She was an artist, and not a very high ranking one so any love between them would have been forbidden. But the fools fell in love and secretly met each other whenever they could. Alas, it was not to be when the mech became betrothed to the prince of Kaon. At the news he stupidly rushed to his dear femme so they could run away. But guards had followed him and they arrested the poor lovers. The mech was given a dagger and told that if he killed the femme all would be forgiven. He took the dagger and gave it over to his beloved and told her to kill him because he would rather die at her hands than be bonded to anyone else. As requested, she killed him and then was so distraught that she took the bloodied dagger and plunged into her own spark as well.

The legend resulted in a rather peculiar practice. It became a custom for mechs in Praxus to present a dagger to their loves when asking them to bond. The whole ordeal is meant to symbolize how the mech who is presenting the dagger is requesting for his or her future bondmate to kill them in the event they ever become intimate with anyone else. 

And to think Prowl was carrying this around in his subspace. What a wonderful piece this is, wonder who he planned to give it to, hmm?”

Barricade chuckled and angled the dagger so it was pressing on Jazz’s throat. A thin line of energon oozed out when he increased the pressure on the blade.

“No guesses? Shame. I’ll have to wring them out from you.”

Barricade wasted no time in lifting the dagger from its place and stabbing it hard into Jazz’s upper thigh.

The brutal action resulted a scream of pain while Jazz’s body seized and pulled at its restraints. 

The blade was slowly twisted, dragging out another cry of agony. 

‘JAZZ!!! Barricade stop this! Stop, I’m begging you, please!!’

If Prowl had a body of his own he was sure he would have been on his knees by now. Screw any dignity or honor, just make it stop!

“What was that Jazz? I don’t think I heard you. Could you please speak up?”

Barricade’s words were followed by another strike, this one cutting deep into Jazz’s abdomen. 

The scream that followed made Prowl wail along to it.

‘BARRICADE!!! I yield! I yield! You have me, you’ve broken me! Just stop! Anything, just stop!’

‘Oh poor Prowler, you misunderstand. I don’t want your surrender, I want your pain.’

The dagger was ripped out of Jazz’s body and raised again. Another scream followed, it was torn out again. And again. And again.

Prowl curled in upon himself. But he had no hands to cover his audios. Nothing to block out the pain of Jazz’s screams.


	6. Chapter 6

“Are we ready Ratchet?”

Ratchet sighed and shifted his weight a little bit. He looked at the gathered mechs in the main air hanger of the Ark. Mirage, Bumblebee, Blaster and Skyfire were all standing there in an unnerving silence, fidgeting occasionally. They knew what was at stake, and it was making them itch to get a move on.

Turning to face Prime, Ratchet had to fight back another grim sigh. “As ready as we’ll ever be. I have as much emergency medical equipment as I can carry and Wheeljack and First Aid are prepping the medbay for our return. On top of that, I think these mechs here are going to explode if they wait any longer and I am not going to fix them if they do.”

“In that case…Autobots!!” The sound of Prime’s voice drew every optic towards the Autobot leader. “Time to take back our friend. Roll out!”

In record time everyone except Prime was packed into Jetfire. Optimus wouldn’t be coming on this one, the plan called for the type of subtlety and cautiousness that made Ratchet snort in humor imagining Prime try to attempt to sneak silently around the Nemesis.

“Settle in everyone, it will be about two hours before we come into sight of the nemesis” Jetfire told his passengers. 

Ratchet leaned back against the shuttle wall. This was all so fragged up. Jazz was seriously ill and could die at any second, the virus that was destroying his psyche was created by his supposedly dead bondmate, when it mattered most Jazz was kidnapped by a Decepticon, and on top of it all, Soundwave was helping to get him back. It all made Ratchet’s helm spin just thinking about it.

Still, he didn’t feel like talking to the other mechs on board so it was all he could do to simply contemplate what the frag had happened.

oooooOOOOOooooo

“And stay out you glitched half-spawned fraggers!!”

Ratchet smirked as he sent two wrenches flying. The sharp yelps that followed did a lot to help his mood. Then a frown crept back onto his face. Apparently it hadn’t done enough. All the search teams had come up empty, whoever had taken Jazz was good. Very good. Pit, for all Ratchet knew, Jazz himself had decided to go AWOL.

A sigh escaped Ratchet as he turned and walked back inside the medbay. A miracle had occurred, the medbay was completely empty of patients. There had been no recent Decepticon attacks, no explosions from Wheeljack, no stupid accidents or pranks, and the last two patients left had just been chased out. For a moment Ratchet had a strong sense of Deja-vu. A similar thing had happened when Prowl had gone missing. It had been as if everyone had been afraid to get into trouble once that their stick-up-his-aft SIC was gone. 

But of all times! Ratchet wanted to have something to do! Now he had nothing to stop him from thinking about Jazz. Where he was, who had taken him, if he was even alive. 

‘Don’t forget about where Prowl fits into this.’ Ratchet groaned. He had almost forgotten about that. The thought practically was deserving of its own headache. Where did Prowl fit into this? He was dead, long gone. Ratchet hadn’t told anyone of their former SIC’s connection to the current events yet except Prime. Together they had agreed that for now it would be best to keep that information from anyone else. No need to agitate old wounds when the information was as spotty as it was.

‘But no one ever found a body.’ 

Ratchet snarled, ‘No! He’s dead. He’s….’

:All officers to the command center, Priority 1!:

Ratchet sent a quick prayer of thanks to Primus before hurrying out the medbay door. 

oooooOOOOOooooo

By the time Ratchet reached the control center just about all the officers had already arrived and were crowding around the communications screen. He pushed passed them and took a place next to Optimus as he took in the sight in front of him. 

Blaster was controlling a transmission and was currently talking to none other than the Decepticon TIC, Soundwave. 

“Are ya sure ya’re right Soundwave?”

“Soundwave: positive”

“What in the name of Prahmus is goin’ on here!!!?”

Ratchet almost winced at the sudden bellow. He turned his head a fraction to make sure. Yup, Ironhide had joined the party.

Optimus turned to face his friend. “At ease Ironhide. Soundwave has important information for us.” He then turned back to the Decepticon on the screen. “Soundwave, now that everyone is here could you repeat your message for us?”

“Soundwave: will do this. Message: Autobot Jazz has been located on the Nemesis.”

“Well of course he’s on the Nemesis! Ya fraggers are the ones who took him!” Ironhide growled before he was quickly shushed by Optimus.

“My apologies Soundwave, continue.”

Soundwave shifted briefly and continued, “Jazz: taken without commands from Megatron. Perpetrator: Barricade.”

Ratchet frowned to himself at the sound of the new name. Barricade. He couldn’t recall a Barricade and a quick search into the Autobot files came up as an empty. Either this mech was new to the cause or he was simply that good to keep hidden from them. 

“Soundwave: willing to help Autobots in retrieval of lost comrade.”

Now this got everyone’s attention. Every head was already facing the monitor, but any focus not on Soundwave was immediately directed to him.

Optimus spoke up again, “Why are you doing this? You have shown no leniency to us before, what makes this situation different?”

“Soundwave: has honor, has boundaries. Barricade: has neither. Lengths Barricade has gone to: must not be permitted. Help required to dispose of Barricade.”

“I assume that you have a plan for us?”

“Assumption: positive.” Ratchet could have sworn Soundwave was smiling beneath his mask. “Barricade: has it coming for him.”

oooooOOOOOooooo

“Ten minutes till landing. The Nemesis is in view.” Skyfire’s voice vibrated throughout the shuttle. 

Ratchet snapped out of the half recharge he was in. Slowly, he stretched out his limbs and got his energon circulating again. A quick look around let him know that just about every other bot was going through the exact same motions he was. 

Bumblebee and Mirage were packing away blueprints of the Nemesis that they had been poring over. Soundwave had located Barricade in the depths of the Nemesis. Those areas had been long abandoned, but the Decepticon TIC had kept sensors in the areas designed to indicate the presence of any mechs down there. The chance of mechs using the space to follow secret agendas was practically at 100%. It would be foolhardy not to keep some type of security. 

It sounded like Barricade had been unaware of the sensors. It was one of the few things that gave the Autobots an upper hand in the upcoming battle. Soundwave would help were he could, but for the most part he had already done all he could. He had made sure that Megatron, the seekers, and many other of the big hitters were occupied outside of the Nemesis. There would still be soldiers on board, no one can change that, but the rout they would be using would be kept clear of any obstacles. 

Honestly, Soundwave was doing a lot for them. It made Ratchet suspicious. In a war like this no favor was done for free. At some point, he was sure that Soundwave would ask for a repayment. But that was a problem to be dealt with another time. Right now they had a saboteur to be saving from the clutches of a madmech. 

oooooOOOOOooooo

They crept in a ragged line deep within the bowels of the Nemesis. Mirage took point with Blaster immediately behind him. Steeljaw scouted ahead and warned them of any traps set. A couple steps behind Blaster, Ratchet focused hard on making as little sound as possible. Silence was not something that he did very well. The medic certainly wasn’t built for it and he generally spent the majority of his time yelling at mechs rather than trying to keep them quiet. In the back of the group, Bumblebee completed their presence in the Decepticon ship.

The last half hour had been spent in a similar fashion. Soundwave had so far proved his worth. No alarms had been tripped and despite precautions taken by the invading Autobots, no Decepticons had ever come in sight of their optics. Though by now it was doubtful any mech would come across the group even if Soundwave had not been helping them. The halls were deserted and rusting from misuse. Ratchet would have snorted in disgust. It was no wonder that a mech like Barricade would pick such a place to hide out in. The surroundings fit his personality perfectly. 

:According to Steeljaw and assuming Soundwave gave up correct directions, Barricade’s hideout is at the end of the hallway we are in: 

:Thank you Blaster: Mirage halted the Autobots. :Everyone comfortable with the plan?:

A chorus of head nods were all the reply Mirage needed.

Within moments Steeljaw had rejoined the group. He, along with Mirage and Blaster disappeared from view.

Ratchet and Bumblebee waited a few moments to allow Mirage and Blaster to get ahead of them a bit before they continued in their path towards whatever hellhole Barricade had waiting for them. 

The plan was very straightforward, just the way Ratchet liked them. Mirage would attempt to sneak into where Barricade was keeping Jazz. Best case scenario, Barricade wouldn’t be there and the Autobots would be able to retrieve their comrade without any violence. But when was the last time the Autobots had had good luck? 

More likely, Barricade would be there and Mirage would have to attempt to take him out before the Decepticon knew what hit him. Though Ratchet didn’t think Primus would even give them that break either. Barricade seemed too smart to be caught unaware like that. So the most likely scenario was thought things would quickly escalate into a fight of some sort. Blaster and Steeljaw would step in where necessary and help Mirage fight Barricade and get him as far away from Jazz as possible. Then Ratchet and Bumblebee would be making a beeline to the TIC and getting him stable enough for them to get him out of the Nemesis and onto Skyfire.

“AAAAAAGGHH!!!” – CRASH!! 

Ratchet sighed, looked like the third scenario would have to do. 

With a quick glance to Bumblebee, the two mechs sprinted into the room ahead of them.

oooooOOOOOooooo

Barricade smiled and glanced over to his offline prisoner. It had been a few hours since either Jazz or Prowl had uttered a syllable. After Jazz had fallen offline from his wounds Prowl had stayed as silent as the grave. A satisfied feeling tingled throughout his body. All the waiting and planning had been paid off many times over. Jazz’s screams had been music to Barricade’s audios and then add in Prowl’s heavy angst over the situation, it was pure bliss.

Jazz’s body was still strapped down to the medical berth. Everything ranging from stabbings, to long slashes, to acidic burn marks ravaged the mechs body. But each had been perfectly made. Carefully placed and carefully calculated. The best part was the artistic mastery that Barricade had included in it. Certain wounds were specifically made deep enough to scar Jazz’s protoform. Together the scars spelled out an ancient saying. The saying could be translated in multiple ways, and none were quite compatible with the English language. It spoke of a deep emotion, but deep emotion of any kind was never easy to understand and is often confused. So the words now engraved into Jazz’s body could either mean an unspeakable type of love, or it could describe a painful trap of betrayal.

Perfect.

Hsss

Barricade upped the settings on his audios.

Hsss

The sounds of hydraulics working in a mech. Muffled, but not good enough. Barricade smirked to himself, about time the Autobots attempted a rescue. This would be fun.

‘Let’s start this out with a bang.’ 

The Decepticon quickly reached for a scalpel nearby. It was still covered in energon, but who’s going to be picky?

With one smooth motion he spun around and threw the scalpel right at an empty space. 

“AAAAAAGGHH!!!” 

Three Autobots, two mechs and a cassette came into view. The yellow and red one, Blaster if Barricade’s memory banks served him correctly, stumbled back with the scalper buried deep into his left shoulder. 

The lion shaped cassette ran, snarling in fury, at Barricade. The Decepticon sidestepped it, causing the little Autobot to ram into the berth which held Jazz with a loud crash. The metal berth shook with the impact, but the unconscious mech upon it did not do so much as to twitch a servo. The lion-mech trembled as it attempted to stand, but stumbled to the floor. The impact had jarred his hind left leg, making it impossible to put any wait on it.

Meanwhile, Barricade had already turned back to his other two opponents. The blue and white one stood protectively in front of Blaster. His gun was drawn and pointed at Barricade. Without giving the Autobot a chance to shoot, Barricade picked up the cassette by the back of its neck and held his other clawed hand to its throat. 

“Careful now,” he purred, “wouldn’t want my hand to slip.” A malicious smile dominated his faceplates. 

Blaster stood up straight, grimacing in pain as the movement jarred his wound. “Don’ ya dare.”

“Oh, don’t I?” Barricade led a clawed finger across the length of the cassette’s throat. A second later a thin line of blue began peeking out of the freshly made slit. 

-CRACK!!!-

Barricade felt an incredible of pain blossom from the back of his helm. The shock of the instant attack caused him to drop the cassette and stumble forward as he lost his balance. 

Within seconds he was on the ground with his servos in stasis cuffs behind his back, but he barely noticed them with the terrible pain in his helm. The last sight he caught before his optics shorted out was of that damned Autobot medic standing over him

‘AAARRGH!’ Prowl’s voice cried out from his chains in Barricade’s helm.

“AAARRGH!”

No, it wasn’t possible! Barricade felt a fleeting moment of panic. That hadn’t been him crying out, it had been Prowl. But he had beaten that sorry excuse of a mech! He had eroded that pit spawned Autobot till there was nothing but despair and pain! How could he have broken through his bonds! 

Barricade turned all his focus inward towards where Prowl resided. The mech was still chained tight so how could…’There!’ Barricade thought to himself when he found the source of the problem. Some of the bonds had been broken open. The lines of code must have been altered with the impact to Barricade’s helm. It would take a few clicks to fix, but it would mean that within those clicks Barricade would have no control if Prowl chose to take advantage of the little bit of freedom. 

Still, the Decepticon had no choice. 

oooooOOOOOooooo

It was the pain that had woken Prowl up. He hadn’t really been in recharge, he had lost that pleasure long ago, but the Autobot had been in a form of it. Imagine floating in a pool of numbing agent and that would be associable. 

But now…it was intolerable.

‘AAARRGH!’

“AARRGH!”

What? What was that? Had he…had he spoken? 

The pain disintegrated as quickly as it had hit Prowl, leaving him free to think clearly. 

Prowl was almost unwilling to test the strength of his bonds again. The urge to give up was so strong, so appealing. 

‘No.’ Prowl denied himself the peace of failure. ‘Not yet. Not if there’s a chance Jazz is still alive.’

Slowly he gained the strength to tug again on his chains. He felt the difference immediately. There was a certain give to them. Something that hadn’t been there before. 

A quick check confirmed his suspicions. There were cracks. None big enough to let him take full control of his body again, but maybe enough for little control for a few moments…if he pushed hard enough.

‘What about Barricade?’

The thought slammed into Prowl. Where was Barricade? Then it was dismissed. It didn’t matter where Barricade was. Prowl had a chance for the first time in almost longer than he could remember. He was not going to waste it because he was too afraid to take the opportunity. 

Prowl summoned every bit of strength he had. All that was needed was a good push. And by Primus he was going to have it. Concentrating hard, Prowl propelled himself forward..

…and opened his optics.

oooooOOOOOooooo

The freedom was intoxicating. Prowl turned his head a centimeter and had to spend a moment to marvel at the movement. It felt so good. 

Then his processor caught up. The weight of each of his actions held a heavy toll on Prowl. He didn’t have enough strength to keep this up for long. Already he could feel the strong pull to move back inside the inky darkness in his helm. 

“R-r-ratchet.” He prayed someone would hear him. A fuzzy noise followed his words, but his audios couldn’t quick catch it.

Prowl was rewarded when his blurry optics caught the sight of the famed medic moving towards him.

“Barricade.”

He flinched at the name of his long time tormenter. “N-no. It’s-t’s me R-r-r-r-.” 

‘Frag this vocalizer!’ Prowl wasn’t sure if it was the vocalizer or simply the fact that he had not physically spoken himself in so long, but he needed to speak! There was too much riding on this! 

“H-h-help-p m-me.”

And that was all he got. The chains around his limbs tightened again, pulling him back into the dark abyss. 

Hopefully. Hopefully it had been enough.


End file.
